Away From The Sun
by ParaCaerOuVoar
Summary: Sometimes you don't need a friend. Sometimes you need a stranger.


Another spn_teamfic challenge, this was a picture prompt, but if you follow the link to my profile page, then to my Deviantart account, there should be a wallpaper in my gallery under the same name as this fic, and the background to that was my prompt.

…

That's possibly the longest explanation I've ever given a fic.

I own only Carmen! Not Dean (damn it!)

--

He sits on the roof, legs dangling over the side. Nineteen stories below him, his brother snores on. A story below that is the ground. Cars growl through the streets, even at this time in the morning. If he smoked, he would light a cigarette, watching the tendrils of smoke blow away into the night. Far away, the other side of town, a police siren wails, the blue lights just visible through a haze of noise and heat.

_It's down to this  
I've got to make this life make sense  
Can anyone do what I've done  
I missed life  
I missed the colours of the world  
Can anyone go where I am_

He hears movement behind him; he doesn't turn to see who it is. He doesn't care anymore. The person moves forwards, sitting on the ledge next to him. She asks what he's doing out here.

He doesn't answer, staring at the people and cars below.

Beside him, the woman lights a joint, and he breathes in the sweet, heady scent of pot. She talks to him again, telling her name. Carmen. Somewhere deep inside his mind a connection is made, but it slips out of reach. He turns to looks at her, acknowledging her for the first time since her sudden appearance. Her name fits. She has long black hair, a shimmery curtain hiding her face from him.

'I'm dying.' It slips out before he can stop himself.

_'Cause now again I've found myself  
So far down, away from the sun  
That shines into the darkest place  
I'm so far down, away from the sun again  
Away from the sun again_

She looks at him, smoke spiraling around her head, like a halo. Her eyes are shimmering vibrant azure. They make him think of happier times. Taking Sammy to the beach when he was six for the first time, his first girlfriend and her unorthodox sapphire hair, the colour of his room, before the fire destroyed everything.

There is silence for a long time as they study each other, blue eyes looking into green before she replies 'Me too,' and returns to her joint, taking a long drag, blowing the smoke into the air above her.

'Tonight,' she adds, glancing at him to gauge his reaction.

He frowns, looking at her again.

'I'm going to jump,' she says, flicking the rest of her joint to the street below.

He finds his voice. 'Why?' seems to be all he can say.

'Because I want to die on my own terms.'

_I'm over this  
I'm tired of living in the dark  
Can anyone see me down here  
The feeling's gone  
There's nothing left to lift me up  
Back into the world I've known_

He studies her properly now, seeing things he hadn't noticed the first time. The slight shake of her otherwise perfect hands, the bags under her eyes expertly covered with make-up. The scars on her wrists, long and raised, clearly recent.

'Why do you have to die at all?'

She looks at him, a curious expression on her face. 'Because everyone dies. Some sooner than others. I have leukemia. The docs gave me six months on the outside. I figure, I'm dying anyway, why should I give them a chance to make me suffer?'

He considers this for a few moments. 'What about family? Friends?'

'My family are all dead and I'm a bitchy, self important nymphomaniac. I don't have friends. I have one night stands.'

_Cause now again I've found myself  
So far down, away from the sun  
That shines into the darkest place  
I'm so far down, away from the sun  
That shines the life away from me  
To find my way back into the arms  
That care about the ones like me  
I'm so far down, away from the sun again_

He doesn't know what to say to that, looking at his feet again. They sit in silence until she speaks up again.

'So what's your deal?'

He laughs gently. 'You wouldn't believe me if I told you.'

'Try me.'

He takes a deep breath. 'I have two weeks to live. I sold my soul so my little brother could live. I'm going to hell, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.'

She just looks incredulous, but he presses on. _She's dying anyway_, he reminds himself, _what difference does it make if she believes me or not?_

'Ghosts are real.' He doesn't dare look at her, instead gazing out into the dark. 'So are vampires, werewolves, demons and any other B-movie monster you'd care to name. Hell is real, and I'm going there, because I gave my soul to a demon in exchange for Sammy's life. So yeah, there's about a million to one chance you believe me right now.'

'I believe you,' she says.

It's his turn to look incredulous. 'When you're staring death in the face, it makes you wonder, is there something out there? So there's a hell. Does that mean there's a heaven? Pearly gates, heavenly choirs? That sort of thing?'

Dean snorts. 'I've never seen any evidence of heaven, or angels. But that's not to say they don't exist. I say if it makes you feel better, believe in what you want.'

_It's down to this  
I've got to make this life make sense  
And now I can't do what I've done _

She laughs. 'Comforting.'

He shrugs, shifting position slightly. She tries another line of questioning. 'Are you scared?'

'Of what?'

'Dying. Going to hell. Pick your favourite.'

'Aren't you?' he counters.

'I asked you first.'

He kicks his heels against the brickwork, sending red dust drifting down. 'Of course I'm scared,' he says eventually, deliberately not making eye contact. 'I have two weeks to live, and it's like I can feel the grains of sand running out and I'm fucking terrified. I'm falling again, only this time, there's no-one to catch me.' He looks up at her. 'I can hear it coming sometimes. Death.' He changes conversation quickly, having gone further than he meant to with this woman. 'So, what about you?'

It's her turn to shrug, playing with the cuff of her jacket. 'I guess. I'm not scared of dying, if that's what you're asking. I'm scared of dying, and finding out that there's nothing. Or finding out there is a heaven, but I'm going to hell.'

_And now again I've found myself  
So far down, away from the sun  
That shines the life away from me_

She stands up, brushing gravel from her jeans and stands on the edge, looking down into the street below. 'You're really gonna do it?' he asks.

'Yes. I really am. You know, I never found out your name,' she says, staring at the people, living their lives, so far down below her.

'Dean,' he finds himself saying. 'Dean Winchester.'

'Dean.' She turns the word over in her mouth, trying it on for size. 'Goodbye Dean Winchester.'

She takes a step forward. The step that will last the rest of her life. She smiles.

_  
'Cause now again I've found myself  
So far down, away from the sun  
That shines into the darkest place  
I'm so far down, away from the sun  
That shines the life away from me  
To find my way back into the arms  
That care about the ones like me  
I'm so far down, away from the sun again_

--

Well, I hope people liked that, cos it was a bitch to write in some parts. I was just thinking, Dean never got to have this conversation in the show at any length, without his aversion to chick flick moments getting in the way, so I figured, why not have it with a complete stranger. It was gonna be Bela, but I decided against that, on account of Dean not being too fond of Bela.

Anyway, I'm gonna stop rambling now, otherwise I'll still be here next Tuesday, just talking on and on and on and now I really am stopping.

Reviews will be much appreciated. Flames will be laughed at.


End file.
